No Rest for the Wicked
by harleyq666
Summary: A fill for the following promt from AL:VH Kink Meme that got vastly out of hand. "Adam has had enough of Henry's traitorous ways and finally captures him. He locks him up, starves him and offers to let other vampires pay to spend an hour with him to do what ever they want. Torture and non con ensue. Henry is not very popular with the vampire population." WARNING: Violence and slash
1. Chapter 1

Author's note:  
This started out as me just playing around with a particularly good prompt over at AL:VH Kink Meme. It then proceded to get vastly out of hand, to the point where I decided it needed somewhere to live. I don't claim to be much of a writer, I'm much better at drawing, but I figured I might as well share. It can't hurt. Please comment, I like feedback!

Henry walked from the dark alley where his last meal lay dead at a quick pace, trying not to look rushed but continuing to put as much distance between himself and the scene as possible. The man was an angry drunk who had been trying to pick a fight with everyone in the bar before he made his way to Henry. Henry hadn't eaten in a week and was more than willing to follow him out of the bar to settle their dispute. Now he regretted it. Without the thirst gnawing at him his mind was too likely to drift onto subjects that he didn't want to dwell on. Abraham was gone, had been for months. He shouldn't be so upset by it, how many friends had he last over the years? Too many to make him ache like this anymore. Abraham's mission was finished, someone who had fought that hard for that long deserved to rest.  
He started wandering the street aimlessly, well, not really aimless. He was trying to get himself lost but if pressed he would have to say he knew where he was going to end up. When he got there so many emotions began to well up in him, sadness, anger, desire, despair, that he thought he was going to be sick. He sat down in the snow and closed his eyes. His limbs hung, tired and stiff. It was cold, and he thought briefly that he should find a coat, even if the cold didn't bother him someone might spot him and approach out of concern or suspicion, but he could not bring himself to move.  
He let his eyes wander over the wilted flowers, letters, and photos. So many people had been here. Though most of the trinkets had been faded by the sun and covered by the snow many had been added recently and a small bright flag stood defiantly against the rapidly darkening surroundings.  
He had no idea how long he'd sat there when the sound of someone approaching from the east roused him. He stood and shook the snow from his hair, finding an inordinate amount of stiffness in his limbs as he stretched them. Perhaps it was colder than he initially thought?  
He peered into the inky black night for the source of the sound, but whoever it was didn't want to be seen. Likely it was another vampire, a good enough reason to move on. The country was emptying of his kind quickly, but those that remained were bent on watching it burn.  
He turned and began walking quickly from the memorial, eyes scanning the grounds around him nervously. He was nearing the gate, when he turned a corner and was struck hard in the chest. The force was enough to send him flying, he landed hard and skidded through the snow a good distance before coming to a stop, lying on his back, staring up at the blank sky, bewildered. Before he could stand to face his attacker a hand grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him roughly into the air. He reached out wildly with clawed hands, his feet swinging through the air. A fist colided hard with his face and he felt the bones in his jaw break. He managed to slice the other vampire across his neck and was dropped. He scrambled back quickly and staggered to his feet, assessing the situations. Two more vampires had appeared and the three of them surrounded him. The vampire that had attacked him first was clutching his neck and his shirt was covered in blood, but he was still standing, he hadn't wounded him as badly as he thought. Henry was in much worse shape. His jaw hung loosly and he could taste the blood. His joints hurt with every movement and a burning sensation was spreadding under his skin, as if he was being stuck by needles. The other vampires began approaching and he spun around to face them. One was unfamilyar to him, he was an older man but he still stood tall and Henry knew better than to underestimate one of his kind based on appearance. The other he recognized, and he froze for a second from surprise. The drunk from the alley gave him a toothy smile. The second vampire took advantage of his surprise and rushed him. He saw him in time to brace himself, but was still nocked off his feet. He lept out of the way as a fist smashed into the frozen ground where he had just been lying, but his legs failed him as he landed and he scrambled for purchase on the icy snow covered ground. The vampires were on him in an instant. They hoisted him up to his toes by his arms and his last meal began laying into him, hard. He felt his ribs crack. The burning feeling increased, like needles forcing their way through his veins. The edges of his vision were beginning to blur when another familiar face appeared, walking toward them calmly. Adam nodded to the other vampires and they dropped him unceremoniously.  
He lay in a heap in the snow staring up into Adam's face, in too much pain to move. Adam reached down to gently stroke his face with the back of his hand.  
"Oh Henry" his expression was remorseful, Henry couldn't tell if he was mocking him.  
"You've been gone too long. You were supposed to be at my side, one of my proudest creations, why didn't you come back?"  
He continued "I could never hurt you, you're like a son to me" Henry would have laughed if broken ribs weren't preventing him from drawing a breath.  
He sat down on a gravestone looking thoughtful. "You may have betrayed us, but I am proud of you, not for what you did, but for the conviction with which you did it."  
"You had to know how severe the repercussions would be." Adam was smiling now "You can't tell me you didn't think we would come for you, or that you could run from us, not after what you did, and yet you never left their side. That kind of commitment over fear, is admirable"  
"But actions have consequences, and I can't afford for you not to learn your lesson."  
Adam stood, his long coat stirring the fresh snow. Henry writhed on the ground. "Oh yes, I should explain" he waved over the vampire that Henry would have sworn was human only a few hours ago. "Our friend here has been taking silver nitrate for the last few weeks, we resuscitated him just after you left. There wasn't enough of it in his blood to kill you, but I suspect you won't enjoy the experience". His smile was venomous and Henry wanted to rip it off his face.  
With that Adam motioned to the other vampires who scooped him up, carried him over to a carriage and dumped him in the back.  
Henry couldn't see anything besides the walls of the carriage, but that didn't matter since he was barely aware of his surroundings beyond the haze of fever. Every bump in the road sent spikes of pain through his body and set off sparks behind his eyes. At some point it became too much and he passed out, he wasn't sure when but it wasn't nearly soon enough. He dreamed terrible fever dreams of running, trying to save someone, any of the many lives he'd let touch him over the years after much protest, only to lose them in the end, running and always arriving too late


	2. Chapter 2

Henry awoke in the dark, which was saying something. His vampire eyes needed very little light and it rarely took more than a candle or two to make a room seem well lit. Where ever he was, it was pitch black, and it made no difference whether his eyes were open or closed, he saw the same black abyss. Moving reminded him of the beating he'd taken. The worst was over but he was still filled with a dull ache, his broken bones would be slow to heal.  
He felt along the stone floor he was lying on until he found a wall and staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on the cold bricks. Running his hands over the walls he made his way slowly around the room, feeling for anything other than the brick walls. The ceiling was low enough that he could touch it without reaching much and the cold damp feel of the stones told him he was underground. It didn't take him long to walk the edge of the chamber counting 4 walls. He was just beginning to panic, fearing that this was not a prison but a tomb, when he found the door. It was a large steel expanse set in a heavy metal frame. He ran his fingertips around the edges, searching for a handle, or hinge, or anything, but found nowhere he could get purchase on the slab. No light came through the crack anywhere around the frame. Perhaps it was a tomb, and even if he managed to pry it open all he'd find on the other side was frozen soil. He pressed his ear to the cold metal. It was faint and he couldn't identify any of the sounds being muffled by the heavy door, but the fact that he could hear something, anything, moving out there, flooded him with relief. There was still a chance the door might open at some point, perhaps even a way out. He gave it a shove, testing. It didn't yield in the slightest, but then he was tired and injured, he could wait, and try again when he had his strength back. As he sat in the dark he tried to work up some anger, thinking about Adam and Vadoma and what he'd like to do to them. He should have made more of an example out of that fool Booth. He had been wrong in thinking the fight was over, that it was time to rest, that he could let the defeated run and hide to lick their wounds.

The first few days of his imprisonment he spent exploring his cell. Having nothing else to occupy himself with, he meticulously mapped out the brick walls by touch. There were two iron rings stuck in the floor near the back wall and two more in the ceiling, and he decided not to think about what they might be used for. He was vaguely aware of his thirst, but it didn't bother him beyond causing him to heal at an annoyingly slow pace.

He spent what he estimated to be the better part of a week trying to break out. The door had obviously been designed with the intention of containing a vampire, and he quickly gave up on it. The walls and ceiling were tested methodically. Eventually he decided on a spot in the corner and began whittling away at the bricks by tooth and nail. As he worked he became increasingly aware of his need to feed, but continued to push it from his mind. After prying a few of the bricks from the wall his fingers were bloodied and raw but his spirit was undeterred, but after finding another wall of bricks behind them, and yet another behind those, he lashed out in frustration, hurling the bricks at the door until they turned to dust. In retrospect this was a bad decision. They could have at least been used as weapons if not tools. But his frustration was clouding his vision in a haze of red. Very much like a caged beast he paced back and forth, blood thirsty and full of rage with nothing to unleash it on.

Two weeks without feeding was a long time even without the injuries his body was healing from. As his strength began to fail him he spent more and more time with his face pressed to the door, listening desperately and analyzing every murmur. In his less clear moments he could swear he heard names, names of people long dead called in the voice of others who had never met them. He heard the voices of those he'd loved calling for him desperately, or mocking him cruelly. He tried calling back to them but the walls of his prison remained stubbornly, maddeningly silent. If he could cry he would have sobbed, but instead he laughed at himself. It was a cold, horrible cackle that filled his little cell and reverberated harshly off the damp walls. He screamed himself hoarse and pounded the door until his knuckles bled. His throat burned and his collapsed veins felt like sandpaper but he continued to pry at the frame of the door. At one point he tried ripping the iron ring from the floor. The burn in his starved muscles was terrible and he finally gave up, having made no progress, when he could no longer move his arms.

The dark and silence were testing his sanity. At times he began to question whether he was actually there at all, and not in some sort of hell where nothing existed except this hunger that felt like being set on fire from the inside and wrung out to dry. The things he remembered, were they even real? Perhaps none of it had ever existed, not Abe, or Adam, or any of it. Maybe it was all a cruel joke to make this nothingness even more painful. He continued to call out but his throat was so dry he couldn't produce a sound.

Henry had lost all sense how much time had passed when a noise like nails on a chalk board came from the door. The steel slab groaned and a sliver of light appeared. He had grown so used to the absolute dark that he immediately squeezed his eyes shut against the sharp pain and brought a hand up to shield himself. The light grew and spread across the floor. Henry blinked his eyes until he could look up at the silhouette in the doorway. He immediately wanted to scream in desperation, but his throat was so parched all that came out was a strangled sound. Adam propped the door open and set a stool down just inside the room. He looked over at the hole in the wall by the corner and smirked.  
"Impressive"  
Henry was seized yet again by the desire to rip the terrible smirk off his face.  
"I wanted to give you a chance to reflect on what you've done, because what's really important is that you understand why I'm doing this."  
"I know you think I'm being cruel, but believe me I'm not trying to. I don't want senseless pain and violence, what I do I do for a reason. I want a better world for us, and I want you to see that. I'm doing this for you."  
"All I want is for you to admit that what you did was wrong, for you to come back to me."  
The two of them sat in silence as the seconds ticked by. Henry did not flinch in his glare, trying to convey as much hate as possible through his eyes.  
Adam sighed and stood, pulling the stool out of the doorway. "You don't want to talk right now, I understand. If there is one thing I have in abundance its patience. However, I can't have you wasting away on me in the meantime."  
He disappeared behind the frame of the door for a moment before returning to drop a large bundle on the floor in the center of the room. The stench hit him immediately. Adam wrinkled his nose as he pulled the burlap sack off the corpse. It was perhaps a week old, no effort had been made to preserve it.  
Before he knew what he was doing Henry found himself biting desperately into the throat. The blood was foul; cold, thick, and putrid. It felt like tar going down his throat but it was better than the sharp pangs of hunger that had driven him near to insanity.  
When he finished Adam gathered the body and left without a word, closing the door behind him and resigning Henry to the dark again. He immediately felt disgusted with himself. Unlike the burning silver that had spread like wildfire under his skin the corpse blood sat in his gut like icy slush, it made his head droop, his limbs heavy, and his thoughts slow. He could practically feel it continuing to rot in his veins. He moved to stand and walk to the door, hoping to catch any words from the man who might still be on the other side, but found his limbs stiff and uncooperative. By the time he managed to crawl to the other side of the room he had completely forgotten why he had wanted to go over there in the first place, and collapsed against the cold steel


	3. Chapter 3

When Henry woke the stone floor he was laying on no longer felt cold. He doubted this was due to someone having the kindness to heat the room for him. More likely his limbs were the same temperature as the frozen ground. The wall behind him inched forward again and he remembered why he had woken. With great effort he dragged himself clear of the door as it swung open.  
"Good morning" Adam greeted him cordially. Henry snarled in return and Adam did a very poor job of stifling a chuckle.  
"Still don't want to talk to me? I would think at this point you'd want to talk to someone. Have you spoken to anyone since your friend died?"  
In truth he had not spoken more than a word to a single soul in months. He had spent lifetimes in silence, so what was it to him? Finding someone worthy would have been an exercise in futility. He suspected Adam would talk to a brick wall just to hear his own voice echoing back at him, which was just fine since Henry had no desire to share anything with him.  
"You do this, make things hard for yourself. What I wonder is, what end do you see for yourself in all of this?"  
"Do you really want a world that has no place for you in it?"  
"You have made yourself quite lonely. It didn't have to be that way."  
Was he alluding to his choice not to turn Abraham? Henry looked away, hoping the shadows would hide his features because he knew the pain would be evident in his face and he did not want to give Adam yet another tool with which to pry apart his was no way he could possibly know how much that decision had tortured him, no way a creature like him could understand what it meant.  
He had given Abraham a piece of himself. He took it with him in death. It took all he had to let him go and live on incomplete.  
Adam continued, apparently oblivious to the deep blow he'd struck. "You always had a place here and you always will. It's not like any of us are going to get rid of you." He smiled with a mouth full of fangs.  
"Perhaps some company will change your mind. You have a guest today, so please do try and be polite" Adam stepped aside and another vampire entered the chamber, setting a candle on the floor before closing the door. He was older in appearance, and somewhat stout. From the way he carried himself it was clear he was used to being treated with respect, probably one of the southern plantation owners who had enjoyed the indulgences that came with such a life. Henry watched him cautiously from where he sat on the floor, unsure of what was to come next, but fairly certain he wasn't meant to enjoy it.  
The vampire studied him for a few minutes before speaking.  
"Stand up"  
"can't" He coughed, his limbs still stiff and refusing to cooperate in any way that might be productive.  
Without warning the other vampire lashed out, the heel of his boot connecting sharply with Henry's temple. He lay face down for a moment collecting his senses while his head rang with the force of the blow, stars swimming in front of him.  
His visitor was unmoved. "Stand up" he repeated in the same flat tone.  
Henry complied mechanically. It took him a moment to pull locate his numb limbs, but he finally managed to collect himself and, one hand clawing the wall, pull himself to his knees. The blow to his jaw did not come as much of a surprise this time, he let himself slide down the wall to rest his throbbing temple against the cool floor.  
"stand up". Henry decided he'd had enough of this game and remained where he was.  
"stand up" the command was repeated with more force. Was this supposed to scare him? If he layed there he'd kick him, if he moved he'd kick him. Neither option was particularly appealing but the fact that he knew what was going to happen stole most of the intimidation.  
The man repeated his command again and Henry continued to ignore him. He could tell his visitor was becoming impatient but he didn't particularly care.  
"pitiful" He finally spat before kicking him in the head again.  
Henry spat blood on the floor but refused to acknowledge the seething man. Apparently he was not accustomed to being ignored because he grabbed Henry roughly by the collar and pinned him hard enough to the wall to make the bricks shake. Henry hung limply, with no option but to look him in the eye.  
"I came here to see if such a disgrace would stand and answer for what he'd done, if you had even that much honor, but this, this is disgusting."  
Sharp claws dug into his neck.  
"After all you did, this is all it takes to reduce you to someone who won't even stand for themself? You think what you did was nobel? That you defend some greater order? All I see is a creature so weak it's crushed by the first blow. Without him you are nothing, because that's all you ever were."  
Their faces were so close, he couldn't resist. Henry spat black blood in his eye before giving the self righteous prick a devilish grin. Enraged, the vampire threw him to the ground. The beating was savage but lacked any real lethality, or creativity for that matter. He knew being a little more humble would probably make things easier on him, but he couldn't help but be amused by the pettiness of it. None the less, without any fresh blood in him his injuries were much more painful and would be slow to heal. He took comfort in the fact that it had been worth it to see the look on his face.  
When he finally left the darkness that claimed him was cold and empty.

Alone again he began to dwell on the question Adam had left him with. He knew he shouldn't let the smug bastard get to him, but with nothing to distract him it was hard not to let his thoughts wander.  
"Do you really want a world that has no place for you in it?"  
There was some truth in that. It was what he had made, wasn't it? He knew what he was doing and it was not the first time the question had come up. He had looked forward to it as the day he could finally rest, but had dwelt very little on what that would mean. In truth he had not really expected to succeed. There had never been a plan for after because after... well...  
"Do you really want a world that has no place for you in it?"  
Yes, that was exactly what he wanted. To be done with this mess. He had always considered suicide a rather cowardly, if not lazy, option, but had he not earned the right?  
No one here would grant him that wish, would they? The realization struck him harshly. Whatever pain they might inflict, it was the lack of damage that really hurt him. Whatever might come to him here, his chances of finding death were slim. That was to be the real cruelty of his imprisonment.


	4. Chapter 4

More visitors followed not long after the first. Many made him long for the comparatively merciful treatment he had received the first time.  
After showing in the first few visitors the responsibility of watching over Henry was handed over to a younger vampire and Adam did not show his face again. Evidently he had better things to do than hang around tormenting insolent trouble makers.  
The vampire tasked with guarding the door to his cell was quite immature, newly turned and still unaware of what he had gotten himself into. Henry guessed Adam had given him the job with the intention of instilling in him the kind of respect he should have for his elders, and perhaps scaring him a little.  
It took a few tries but eventually Henry managed to get him to open up a little. His name was James. They didn't have much in common, but they got on amicably enough considering the situation. James was more simple minded than truly malicious. At least he wasn't one of the romantics, caught up in the passion and intrigue they imagined the lives of the dark and mysterious vampires to be filled with. Henry found them very tiring, reality was always much more vulgar. Most of the time it was just a matter of keeping each other company. He must have been instructed not to share any news of significance from outside, either that or he was woefully uninformed himself. Either way Henry was kept very isolated from the outside world. He didn't bother trying to talk to the vampires that came and went.

Everyone had their own vision of poetic justice. The younger vampires were fond of inflicting simple brutal violence. That was not really so hard to take, it was almost worth the company. They made a great show of force but lacked any real finesse. He may as well let them work out their frustration. Even if they had nothing else in common he could sympathise with the feeling of being young and cheated out of the future you'd been promised.

It was the older vampires, with the patience to carefully aim their blows, that found the little soft spots to stick their slings and arrows.

The first to make use of the anchors to shackle him were two young women with thick spanish accents and matching long black hair.  
It was humiliating. Between the hunger and the dead blood he was being fed Henry was in no shape to resist anyway. The main purpose of the restraints were to keep him standing.  
They teased him mercilessly, mixing gentle caresses with sharp jabs, giggling whenever he tried to pull away. They left him exhausted and strung out.  
The next visitor said nothing to him. He simply walked up to Henry and sank his fangs into his throat. He drank until Henry saw stars and the room began to spin and tilt, until he finally ripped away, taking a chunk of flesh with him. He left without so much as a look.  
James brought him a corpse to feed from after that. The cold black blood tasted like tar and went down in much the same way.

What a sight he must be, strung up, naked, and covered in his own blood. It made him laugh to think of what pitiful image he made. He was developing a very dark, indifferent humor about things. At times it worried him, the ability to feel pain is something that reminds you what it's like to be human. Losing that put him one step farther from what he'd been and one step closer to what he feared.  
Still, one had to find some way to cope. He chuckled to himself, who ever come next would likely be very disappointed when they found there wasn't any damage left to do. Of course it wasn't just anyone who came see him next, no, the the face that appeared in the door was the last he wanted to see.  
Adam entered without a word and set a metal bowl and a bundle of fabric on the floor before approaching him. A set of keys was produced for the cuffs and he lowered Henry gently to the ground, unfazed by the icy glare fixed on him.  
Henry's shoulders and arms had gone numb from hanging so long. When he let them drop feeling began to creep back in with a sharp ache that radiated from his joints.  
Adam picked up the bundle and shook it out, unfolding a shirt and trousers. No. Absolutely not. Henry was not going to let Adam dress him like some helpless child. To his credit Adam did offer the clothes to Henry, but it only made it more humiliating when he couldn't lift his arms enough to take them. He was left with no choice. As much as he despised being treated like a child he was not about to act like one just to be difficult. After dressing him Adam brought over the bowl of water and washed away some of the dirt and dried blood. Henry continued to glare daggers at him since it was the only thing he could do.  
He left him still not having said a word. It was with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Henry knew they were not yet finished.

He could smell her even before the door was opened, the scent was in such a stark contrast to the stale cold air. It was his thirst playing a trick on him. His own mind was joining in on the torment. Amidst the stream of undead come to torment him at no point in his imprisonment had any living soul descended the steps to his little hell. He had not seen a living, breathing, human in so long he was beginning to wonder if he was in fact truly dead. But there was no mistaking the scent of the woman on the other side of the door, he could practically hear her heartbeat. He had not realized how strong his thirst had gotten. The smell was tantalizing, burning his throat, he couldn't help but let his fangs descend.  
When the door opened he only saw Adam's face, but it did not take him long to notice the small hand tightly clutching his.

He began to tremble.

Henry had never taken a child. He was not too proud to admit that in some of his more desperate moments his victims had been innocent and undeserving, but he had never fed from a child, had never fallen that low. She had light brown hair that fell in little ringlets, pulled into neat pigtails with green satin bows that matched the trim on her fresh white dress. Maybe five years old, with she was so small, with wide blue eyes and skin so fair he could see the blue veins that ran beneath it. Far too young to understand what was going to happen.  
Henry clasped a hand tightly over his mouth, trying to block the air that carried the sweet scent. His other hand balled in a fist, his claws digging into his palm as he fought with himself.

"it's too dark." Henry watched from his dark corner. Her small voice was filled with impatience, curiosity, but not fear. She continued to hold tight to Adam's hand, trusting him.  
"Is it?" He knelt by her side, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. Henry watched the scene unfold, filled with dread. "we'll have to make some light."  
"You hold this" he handed her a candle which she held carefully in front of her as he lit it with a match. "That's better, now set that down, good girl". He scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the room.  
The candle cast a soft glow that permeated the corners of the small room. Henry could only imagine how he must look.  
"Say 'hello Henry'"  
She hid her face in Adam's coat, just peeking at him. Such a brave child.  
"Please Adam, don't do this" Henry finally gasped.  
"Now you're talking to me?" He raised an amused eyebrow before turning back to the little girl. Henry's heart sank a little lower.  
He took her chin in his hand "Don't be shy. You're not scared are you?"  
She shook her head.  
"That's my good girl" He planted a light kiss on her forehead.  
She turned in his arms to look at Henry, curious. "Is he sick?"  
Adam furrowed his brow, "In a way I suppose."  
"please" Henry begged, his parched throat causing his voice to crack. Adam ignored him.  
He sat down on the floor next to Henry who pressed himself against the wall as much as he could. The girl crawled into his lap and watched intently, his long fingers stroking her hair gently. He pulled an ornate metal cup from his coat pocket and set it on the floor. He then produced a dainty steel knife, turning the blade so it flickered in the dim light.  
"what's that?"  
"Would you like to see?" He held the blade out to her on his open palm "careful, it's very sharp."  
She grabbed for it as small children are wont to do. With a sharp cry she dropped it in surprise. Henry's eyes widened, focusing on the small red bead glistening on her fingertip.  
She started to cry softly. Adam tutted her gently, holding her close as he turned her hand over. "I told you to be careful." Delicately, he wiped the blood away with with his handkerchief. Henry couldn't help but be disappointed as the cloth disappeared back into the breast pocket of Adam's coat. He would have sucked the tiny drops of blood from the fabric given the chance.  
The girl looked down at the little cut on her finger and sniffed. "Will you kiss it make it better?" she looked up at Adam, her cheeks still wet with tears.  
"of course my dear". Henry would have given anything not to watch but couldn't pull his eyes away. Instead he dug his claws further into the palm of his hand. The sharp pain did little to distract him.  
She held her hand out for Adam who held it gently, lightly pressing his lips to the tiny fingers. His expression betrayed no sign of temptation, the picture of control.  
It was not something Henry could have done, even at his best.  
"there, all better?"  
She nodded.  
"Good" Adam smiled. He pulled her close, still holding her hand out. He picked up the knife and held her wrist carefully over the cup. Henry covered his face with his hands.  
"You must stop fighting what you are Sturges." Adam carefully drew the blade across her petite wrist, bright red blood blooming over porcelain skin. She shrieked in surprise, he held her still. Henry scrambled back as the scent hit him, eyes wide, his throat on fire.  
"You waste so much energy on these silly little tantrums."  
Henry was seething. This was not a 'silly little tantrum', it was a matter of crossing a very clear line. Adam wrapped his handkerchief around the wound, still holding her tightly, before holding the glass out to Henry. It was the casualness of his motions that made Henry burn the most. Neither the growing rich smell nor the muffled cries inspired as much as a second of hesitation. Adam pressed the glass to Henry's lips, the smell enveloped was too much. He snatched the glass from Adam and downed it's contents greedily. It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before, light and delicate, but more than anything it was pure. He had never tasted blood so untainted. The relief was immediate and euphoric, warmth spreading through his veins. Adam passed him the limp body. It was still warm, the heartbeat light and quick as it fought desperately to stay alive. He held her tightly and sank his fangs into her neck, reveling in gush of warm rich blood on his lips. But she was so small, and began to fade all too quickly. He could feel the vitality returning to him, spreading through his limbs. Henry drank until the body in his arms was cold and still, and continued to suck long after there was no blood left, desperate and unsatisfied.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to sob because it was the appropriate response for the situation. He wanted to cry for the life he had just taken. He wanted to cry for the last shred of his innocence he had just lost, that he had held onto so desperately for so long. How many friends had he lost? How many lovers? Was he not allowed to mourn? Convulsions wracked through him but the tears would not come. His sadness quickly turned to frustration. He looked to Adam, who was still sitting on the floor beside him.  
Something would be shed for this, if not tears, then blood.  
He launched himself with as much fury as he could muster, fresh blood burning in his veins, more life in his limbs than had been for a long time.  
He was hardly on his feet a moment before he found himself staring at the stone floor. Adam forced to his knees is one fluid motion, his arm twisted up and behind him so that if he moved it would be pulled out of the socket. A boot settled firmly between his shoulder blades.  
"This childishness is rather tiresome."  
He struggled against the iron hold, still seething. The boot pressed harder into his back, forcing him down until his nose was nearly to the stone.  
"I expect better from you."  
"You seem to be slow on the up-take so let me make this clear. You think taking revenge on the rest of us will redeem you of your own sins. No one is going to thank you for what you did. You can keep this up as long as you'd like but it will not change what you are. You can not cleanse your soul with bloodshed "  
Henry snarled back "Some of us are not content to lay down and accept things as they are."  
Adam replied cooly "The evils you fight are imaginary. Eventually you will understand that there is no evil you need to relieve this world of, or redeem yourself from."  
"No, it's you who doesn't understand, but how could you when you can't even remember what it means to be alive?"  
There was an iciness to Adam's voice that Henry had never heard before, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "I have seen more of life than any other being walking this earth, so believe me when I say, you will never understand life if you do not understand death."  
He slammed the door behind him. Alone again Henry shivered.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Note:

It's not super clear in the movie what Henry's experience with vampires was before Adam turned him. I'm opperating under the assumption that he has extensive experience dealing with them based on the ease with which he dispatched Adams diciples when they met on the road.

Henry had lost his bearings and for a moment the world spun madly around and he had no idea where he was or what was happening. Cold. That was the first thing he felt. Ice in his veins, brittle and sharp settling in his bones. What was happening? The sun was shining so warmly, but all the heat was draining out of him. Where did it go? He was losing something, it was so cold. His head felt empty and light. He blinked over and over, trying to focus, keep his balance, fight the mounting panic.  
Stay awake damn it!  
He needed to focus. All the colors seemed to be bleeding together into white. God it was bright. There was no way there had been this blindingly, searingly bright out before. It hurt, but he couldn't tell if it was coming from the sun or something inside him.  
He had to focus. He had promised to keep her safe, he remembered with startling clarity.  
He had to remember what was happening. Where was he? A blur of green, twirling in slow circles, floating, like time had slowed down. It was so pretty, graceful. If he could just sit and watch...No! He could hear her scream. He tried to run to her, but his legs wouldn't move. He was panicking. He had promised never to let anything hurt her. He had to do something, but the cold in his bones held him down so heavily. He was so weak, had thought himself stronger than this, he had to be, he had promised he would be. If he could just fight this.  
The green blur fluttered to the ground, like falling leaves, but leaves don't fall while they're green. His head was so light, he just wanted to rest, lie down and be done, the ground was so close, but there was something more important.  
He'd failed. Of course he had. He'd been a fool to think he'd ever be enough. He should have been stronger. He hadn't deserved her, now he'd destroyed the thing he loved most. Is that all he could do? Destroy everything he touched. The cold had stopped spreading, but remained in the background like the dull ache from a phantom limb.  
All his pent up rage and desperation snapped, he lunged, the cold and pain and bright light pushed from his mind as he launched himself at his target with a single objective in mind. His body obeyed instantly, all the moves practiced over and over so that he would never fail, so that this would never happen. It was too late now, but dammit if he didn't have one final say.  
But something stopped him. The man turned to him calmly, his mouth a thin smug line, horrible inhuman eyes glistening dark and cold. He was saying something in his horrible cold voice. Henry didn't listen, his words smelled like blood, her blood. He would make the damned creature pay. He stabbed at the air desperately; the dead eyes watched his impotent rage with amusement.  
"Welcome to the family"

He could feel her being ripped away from him. It was too soon. He couldn't let go yet. If she would just come back, just wake up. He'd try harder, work harder, never let himself get distracted, never leave her side, and never go out again. He would leave those vile creatures behind; they could run away, far away, somewhere safe, start over somewhere in the sun.  
The goddamn sun.  
It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to end yet. He needed more time. Another minute with her, just one more moment. If he could just have one more chance, he'd do better. He promised whatever god there might be his soul and every moment of his life for one more chance to do better, but something told him there would be no one listening. Everything was too clear in the harsh light. He had come so close, that had to count for something. It wasn't fair, he'd come too far for this. The dark and the light were divided too sharply in the sunlight.  
What he wouldn't give for that horrible light to go away. When he dared open his eyes all he could see was harsh white light. That was ok, he didn't need to see, he just needed to hold on.  
No matter how much the light burned, he wouldn't let go of her.  
He pulled the limp body to him, but she was cold. The blood was everywhere, everywhere he touched her. It was eating away at her, like rust. His panic became a frenzy, he tried to wipe the dark blood away, but the limp body crumbled at his touch, turning to dust in his hands. Someone screamed. He looked up; there were people everywhere, all of them staring in horror or disgust. So many faces pale with fear, like ghosts. He spun around on hands and knees, but there was nowhere to hide.  
"It isn't what it looks like!" He pleaded with the crowd, trying to look sincere while covered in blood. They stared back at him coldly, the face of every one of his victims, reflecting back the horror and pain he'd seen on their faces.  
All except one, whose face held not pain and fear, but the anger of betrayal.  
"Please! I didn't mean to..."  
The stares continued to cut through him; he bowed his head under the weight.  
"I'm sorry. I tried. I'm so sorry."

Henry woke with a start before remembering where he was. He was back in the present, the nightmare had been a fueled by memories from the distant past, all of it long gone.  
It wasn't the body of his wife in his arms, but the corpse of the girl he'd killed. She was very dead, the air was thick with the smell of it. He set the body down gently before moving to the other side of the room. Now that he was awake his thirst began to return, reminding him that, despite the fact that he couldn't seem to get away from the reality of it, he hadn't fed in a long time.  
Eventually someone would come and take the body away. They'd bring him a somewhat fresher corpse, and he'd drink from it because he would not be able to stop himself. Afterwards he'd be disgusted with himself again, but at least he wouldn't be left alone to his misery.

The tall figure had to duck under the frame of the door. Only his silhouette was visible as he closed the door behind him solidly. There was so much anxiety in his movements, uncertainty, but also something else underneath it. He approached slowly, with hesitancy. It was stupid but it irritated Henry, what was he waiting for?

"Oh Henry, what have they done to you?"  
Henry didn't bother responding, it certainly wasn't the first time someone had feigned concern in order to mock him.  
He knelt beside Henry, taking his chin in hand and gently turning his head to better inspect the angry gash that spread over his neck and shoulder. Instinctively, Henry pulled away from the touch. The man recaptured his chin forced Henry to look him in the eye. Henry continued to try and pull away.  
"Stop that, look at me"  
Henry glared obstinately into the cold inhuman eyes of the vampire before him.  
"It took me too long to find you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't take you now, but I'm going to get you out of here, I promise."  
When his words produced no response he moved to look Henry in the eye again.  
"Henry its Abraham"  
Something about the audacity of the statement managed to light a fire in him and he spat back with a fury he didn't know he had left.  
"Go ahead and mock me. You think I'm so desperate that an idiot like you could trick me? If you think that much of yourself you are nothing but a fool."  
The figure rose and stepped back, shocked by the sudden display of anger. Henry looked away, avoiding the gaze of the figure looming over him, already regretting his outburst.  
"All that, just for using a name?"  
Henry sat in sullen silence. The vampire returned to his side, still speaking gently.  
"I'm sorry for this. You thought I was dead. I wish I was."  
"I admit, it does feel wrong in a way, to use that name. I do not feel like myself. I don't know if I'm the same man."  
"Henry listen to me. You were the one who taught me how powerful the truth is, so recognize it now; I'm not trying to fool you."  
He didn't want to believe him, he really didn't. He was too tired to go through so much pain again, but he could not deny what he saw in the man before him. Henry looked him over, beard trimmed into a neat goatee, dyed the same light blond as his hair. Someone had plucked his eyebrows with a vengeance, until they lay obediently, managed to tame his hair somewhat as well. But everything else was there. Of course it was, Henry had known the man long enough that it should take more than a few stage actors' tricks to fool him. It was not all tricks though.  
Abraham was still examining him with growing concern "Who did this to you?"  
"Me? Abraham, who did this to you?" Henry still could not adjust to seeing his friend in such a state. It was a change on a deeper level. Henry had never thought about what his friend might be like after death. He had offered turn him himself, hadn't he? But even before he'd asked he'd known what the answer would be. Abraham had made it clear that it was not what he wanted, and Henry had let him have his rest. He could see the uneasiness in his every gesture, the pain of a man not at home in his own skin.  
Inner turmoil raged behind dark eyes "I can't talk now"  
Henry almost laughed "You imagine you will have another opportunity?"  
"Henry I'm going to come back for you, I promise."  
Henry shook his head "don't risk it, it's not worth it."  
"Henry I need you, now more than ever" Abraham responded, visibly disturbed by Henry's words.  
Henry smiled weakly "You never needed me, not really"  
Abraham just shook his head "Why did you let them do this to you?"  
To this Henry could not respond.  
"I can't do this alone, I can't do this without you, but if you've given up then perhaps, as you say, it really isn't worth it."  
The words cut straight through him. It was shameful how apathetic he'd grown toward life. The man standing before him had certainly known loss, loss to rival Henry's own, and yet he was here still.  
Abraham must have seen the change occurring in his eyes, because he pulled Henry to him, gentle but firm, taking his lips with the same tender but demanding force.  
Without thinking Henry reached out for him and held on. It took a while for his mind to kick in, stunned by the motion. Abraham had never expressed any such sentiment when he was alive, not in all the time they had spent working together. Henry had never allowed himself that much hope, had resigned his desires to the realm of fantasy. But there had been desire, and he didn't realize how much until the restraints were broken and it came gushing forth. Henry held himself to Abraham, pressing for as much contact as possible, as much solid connection as he could get. Even after their lips parted he held on. They stayed there, frozen, resting against one another. Something ought to be said, but neither had any words yet.  
Henry finally broke the silence.  
"My mind has played too many tricks on me."  
"You think I'm not really here."  
"Are you?"  
"Yes"  
Henry nodded, satisfied.  
"That's it?"  
"You wouldn't lie to me"  
Abraham started as if to argue with him, but thought better of it.  
"Why now?"  
He looked away, embarrassed. For a moment Henry was reminded of the bashful but determined 16 year old he'd met many years ago.  
"I had nothing to lose anymore, if you didn't want me."  
"I've always wanted you" Henry smiled ran a hand down his cheek gently. To think he  
"Abraham who did this to you?"  
"I told you, I can't talk now. The less you know for now the better."  
Henry smirked "I meant this" he carded a hand through short dirty blond hair.  
He earned a small smirk. Even the smallest joy on his companion's face was enough to make him want to pull him into an embrace, to taste his lips again, but there were still serious matters at hand.  
Henry closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself before speaking again, fearing what he had to say next.  
"Promise me you're not going to get yourself killed on my behalf."  
Abraham protested "Henry don't..."  
Henry cut him off "…because I need you for this."  
He nodded.  
Satisfied with his friend's commitment, Henry tilted his head to the side "You should drink".  
"No."  
"If you don't do some damage they'll suspect you, they probably already do"  
Abraham shook his head  
"Don't tell me you didn't expect it coming here, I trained you to plan better than that"  
He acceded finally, "Will you be ok?"  
"You won't be able to take more than I can stand"  
"Right" He didn't seem reassured at all  
Henry tilted his head nervously "Before I lose my nerve?"  
Henry watched as the face of his friend changed. His eyes grew dark as long fangs descended. He couldn't help but find it graceful, the way so much power was wielded with such focus and restraint. Abraham pulled him close and Henry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sharp pierce. There was a prick that lasted a moment, and then a gentle tugging. Almost immediately he began to feel dizzy. A tingle started in his fingertips and began to work its way up his arms. He wasn't sure if it was from the loss of blood or how tightly Abraham was holding him. Those lips pressed to his throat, though not as pleasant as when they were pressed to his own lips, were worth every inch of pain. Henry did not often dwell on what could have been. Early on he'd spent many years being angry about what could have been and was taken away. He spent many more years regretting how he'd failed to hold on to it. He never stopped regretting, but he did stop thinking about it. In the many years that had followed, as he watched the lives around him cycle by again and again, there became very little to regret. There would always be another chance eventually. Anything that could have been would be again. He had not realized how poisonous this kind of thinking was until he had almost let himself die, never even knowing what could have been. The blood taken from him was important if he wanted to live, but the hope he'd been given in return was worth more.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note:

This is a flashback.

"Oh, Oh dear god!"  
Henry spun around in a panic at hearing the shrill cry, dropping the still warm body to bleed out onto the cobblestones. The street was dark, lined with black windows, the moon and stars they reflected were the only light. Despite the dark he spotted her immediately.  
The young woman stood frozen in the road, eyes wide in surprise, the color drained from her face. To Henry's horror she began to stumble towards him.  
"Help! Someone help!". Henry looked around frantically, hoping there was no one around to hear her.  
"Oh won't someone help me? I'm just a poor, defenseless girl. Won't someone rescue me?" Henry froze, eyeing her quizzically as her voice rose to take on fake girly falsetto before she broke into a fit of giggles. She walked the rest of the way to him confidently until she was close enough to whisper in his ear. "Who knows what horrible things such a monster would do to me." She smiled wickedly, pulling back red lips to reveal a set of gleaming sharp fangs. Henry jumped back. she paced casually around his kill.  
"You are a vile creature!"  
She smiled wickedly again. "Very clean"  
She examined the man lying in the street, his blood escaping through small gash in his neck, trickling down between the cracks in the road to be lost on the dirt below. Henry had not begun to feed when he was interrupted. He had fought the growing thirst for days, determined to starve himself to death. With the realization that his control would slip before he would starve he had surrendered, if only to keep his mind clear long enough to find another way to do away with himself. Now he held himself back as he watched the woman eyeing his kill. HIS kill, that he had tracked until he was certain he was the least innocent man to be found, and that he would not be missed. His kill, that he had followed for hours, carefully drawing him away into the shadows. His kill, that he'd suffered holding back his maddening hunger for, so that he could give him a quick death.  
"Either you're an awful quick learner or you've done this before"  
Henry glared at her, she ignored him, looking off into the distance wistfully.  
"Yet to be jaded by the years, you look at death like a bride on your honeymoon. She's been courted and now she's yours, but you don't know what to do first"  
"I would kill you"  
Her attention snapped back to him "Oh I believe that, and I imagine you might have even been half capable."  
"Tell me, how many vampires have you killed?"  
"Not enough for certain"  
"Oh but I imagine you were quite fearsome, weren't you. You don't have to be modest on my account"  
"What do you want?" Henry snapped, becoming impatient with the wistful woman.  
She didn't speak, and he continued to glare at her icely.  
She knelt on the pavement before the body of the man still bleeding in the gutter.  
"A common street criminal is certainly no delicacy, but still young, and fresh, certainly nothing to turn your nose up at." She cradled his head while gently peeling away the blood soaked cloth from around his neck. Henry watched jealously as she sank fangs into his neck, lapping up the hot blood that dribbled down her chin. He was vaguely aware of how tense he had become in the process of trying to resist the urge to satisfy his hunger, like a bow string pulled taught.  
When she rose the front of her dress was stained with blood that dripped from her chin down her chest and arms. It was a tantalizing sight.  
She approached him slowly, carrying with her the smell of fresh blood. Thin elegant fingers, stained red and ending in long sharp nails ran gently along Henry's cheek as she whispered close to his ear.  
"You don't even know what you're missing yet."  
Henry could feel his control slipping and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't help but lean forward towards the smell. She smiled and let him pull her fingers into his mouth. The taste was like nothing he could have expected and he sucked hungrily.  
She pulled back, tracing a red line along her lips. He followed as best he could, finally finding her mouth. The blood on her lips had cooled slightly but he there was warm fresh blood on her tongue. He delved deeper into her mouth, searching for more of the intoxicating substance, nipping and biting at her lips and tongue. The fresh blood warmed her skin and his hands sought it out without him thinking, his fingers claiming large swaths of porcelain skin and marking it with bold red stripes. His hands twined into golden hair. But it still was not enough, nowhere near enough to satisfy the hunger that had taken control of his limbs and was running rampant. Roughly, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back to expose the graceful lines of her neck.

The morning light found them both stained with blood as they laid together hidden in the alleyway. Vadoma couldn't help but linger for a moment on the beautifully decadent sight, their limbs tangled, sated flesh painted with the evidence of their indulgence. She roused her pet with a gentle hand. His vision still clouded by a red haze, Henry hissed at the feel of the sun on his skin. Silently, she guided him out of the light and into the frame of a door where they could find some shade and slightly more privacy.  
She watched as Henry woke and began to come to terms with the state of himself "What have I done? What did we..What did you do?" His expression morphed slowly from one of despair to bitter spite.  
"All I did was offer what you wanted"  
"I did not want this!" Henry almost shouted, but tempered himself "Why?"  
"To prove a point"  
"And that would be?"  
"Your soul is not pure."  
"Don't you think I know that?"  
"But does your pride?"  
His answer was slow in coming and she took the opportunity to speak "You thought you could be a hunter and a lover, but you can not pursue the living and the dead. That kind of impudence and disrespect for the order of things does not go unpunished."  
"You will achieve nothing if you continue trying to regain what was is blood on your hands and You of all people should know blood can not be washed away with more blood. There is no honorable course of action, but this is not about your honor. You will be dragged through the dirt Mr. Sturges, so that others might stay clean."  
"How do you know my name!?" Henry shook himself out of his introspection.  
"I know much more about you than you would like me to. It was my brother who turned you after all."  
"How Dare You!" For the second time in the space of a day Henry's self control snapped. Still abuzz with the effects of his first meal he lunged at the infuriating woman with fire in his veins. He still didn't know how much harm he was capable of inflicting on another vampire, but he intended on finding out.  
Centuries of experience allowed Vadoma to deflect his attack without a thought. Using his momentum against him she put him on his back, a stiletto heel placed in the center of his chest to deter any further moves.  
"He really went out of his way to find me an interesting one this time, full of fire"  
"Who are you?!"  
"A very old woman who is very bored and looking to stir up some trouble"  
"Is this a game to you?"  
"When you've seen as much of the world as I have life- and death get to be tiresome unless you make some fun for yourself. I rather enjoy playing fate, seeing what paths I can set my characters on."  
"You're using me"  
"yes"  
"then why tell me?"  
"Because you're going to do it anyways"  
"I will not put on a performance for your amusement"  
"Of course you will dear. It's who you are, and it's in your nature."


End file.
